before.”
Maybe he wanted something from you, she felt like saying, and didn’t.
Zee opened the viewport and gazed out at the local stars, lovely and distant as Zee’s hopes for Hillis. After a time he said, “We may never see these stars again. I’ve just begun my observations. To take me groundside right now is …” He turned to plead with Clio. “… tragic. I was bornto be here, doing what I’m doing. Not mucking about in some screaming jungle.”
Clio stood up and headed for the stowage bin to rummage for fresh togs. Peeled off her T-shirt, grabbed a new one. “Zee,” she said, “this isn’t Princeton. This is Recon, for godsakes.”
Zee averted his eyes as she undressed. Clio noted this, pulled the tee over her head with a snap. “Look, it’s my quarters. You don’t like the view, go find another.”
“Clio. It’s not that. At all.” He looked back up at her.
She swung around, zipping up her suit. “Look. You signed on, Zee. You signed on for whatever comes down, the same as the rest of us. You sign onto Recon, you take what comes.” She clipped her belt on, stared at him. “You walk into my cabin, you take what comes.”
He nodded slowly, headed for the door, turned. “I wish you were going with us.”
“I’ll keep the home fires burning.”
He smiled, turned, and left, closing the door behind him.
Her irritation faded. Zee was scared, didn’t realize they were all scared, to one degree or another. Signed on for it, but didn’t mean you weren’t scared. But damn if she was going to reassure him. Who was going to reassure her?
Clio sat in the galley nursing a cup of coffee. Estevan and Meng had a game of cards going, trying to waste the last couple hours until the surface mission. Estevan was muscular and abrupt, snapping the cards down and glowering over his hand at Meng, who was well ahead. Meng sweetly called the play: Estevan’s three jacks stared balefully at Meng’s straight. She swept her earnings into a pile, humming, goading Estevan. She dealt another hand.
Posie was digging in the refrigeration hatch for something to eat, commenting on the rejects. “What’s so hard about a ham sandwich? Man wasn’t made to eat food from a tube.”
Estevan frowned mightily at the hand he had just beendealt. Without looking at Posie, he said, “Tubes are easier. You just pop off the top and suck.”
It began then. The screech of the Klaxon, grabbing the ship and filling it with a metallic howl. Estevan lurched out of his seat and Posie dropped the carbo tubes in his hands.
Ship’s voice calmly announced the worst: “CLOSE ALL HATCHES, PRESSURE FAILURE IN LAUNCH BAY.”
Clio flung herself up the ladder to the flight-deck hatch, screaming at Posie to shut the third hatch to the galley, the crew-station hatch. Clio grabbed at the flight-deck hatch, pulled the toggle to release it from the ceiling, and cranked it shut. She swung around to check the other hatches. Each one was shut, and guarded now by a crewmate, as though hell itself might barge through those doors. Though the alarms were still screeching, Clio could see Estevan’s mouth forming the words
holy shit, holy shit
.
Then, over the Klaxon’s blare, Estevan yelled at Meng, “Get your ass in gear, we’re ready to blow apart, you bitch!”
Meng, still seated at her cards, stared up at him. As the alarm subsided, Estevan screamed, “You gonna play cards on doomsday?”
In the ensuing quiet, Meng placed her cards facedown. “They must have fixed it,” she said.
Clio’s eyes were on the crew-deck hatchway, waiting for it to blow if the launch bay did.
Posie was on the intercom, but so were a few other people. Finally Russo’s voice piped in: “Posie to medical emergency in the launch bay. We are repressurized. Everyone else, clear the crew-quarter passageway and maintain your stations.”
Estevan spun open the hatch lock and made way for Posie, who rushed aft to the launch bay.
Hillis appeared in the same
Maybe he wanted something from you, she felt like saying, and didn’t.
Zee opened the viewport and gazed out at the local stars, lovely and distant as Zee’s hopes for Hillis. After a time he said, “We may never see these stars again. I’ve just begun my observations. To take me groundside right now is …” He turned to plead with Clio. “… tragic. I was bornto be here, doing what I’m doing. Not mucking about in some screaming jungle.”
Clio stood up and headed for the stowage bin to rummage for fresh togs. Peeled off her T-shirt, grabbed a new one. “Zee,” she said, “this isn’t Princeton. This is Recon, for godsakes.”
Zee averted his eyes as she undressed. Clio noted this, pulled the tee over her head with a snap. “Look, it’s my quarters. You don’t like the view, go find another.”
“Clio. It’s not that. At all.” He looked back up at her.
She swung around, zipping up her suit. “Look. You signed on, Zee. You signed on for whatever comes down, the same as the rest of us. You sign onto Recon, you take what comes.” She clipped her belt on, stared at him. “You walk into my cabin, you take what comes.”
He nodded slowly, headed for the door, turned. “I wish you were going with us.”
“I’ll keep the home fires burning.”
He smiled, turned, and left, closing the door behind him.
Her irritation faded. Zee was scared, didn’t realize they were all scared, to one degree or another. Signed on for it, but didn’t mean you weren’t scared. But damn if she was going to reassure him. Who was going to reassure her?
Clio sat in the galley nursing a cup of coffee. Estevan and Meng had a game of cards going, trying to waste the last couple hours until the surface mission. Estevan was muscular and abrupt, snapping the cards down and glowering over his hand at Meng, who was well ahead. Meng sweetly called the play: Estevan’s three jacks stared balefully at Meng’s straight. She swept her earnings into a pile, humming, goading Estevan. She dealt another hand.
Posie was digging in the refrigeration hatch for something to eat, commenting on the rejects. “What’s so hard about a ham sandwich? Man wasn’t made to eat food from a tube.”
Estevan frowned mightily at the hand he had just beendealt. Without looking at Posie, he said, “Tubes are easier. You just pop off the top and suck.”
It began then. The screech of the Klaxon, grabbing the ship and filling it with a metallic howl. Estevan lurched out of his seat and Posie dropped the carbo tubes in his hands.
Ship’s voice calmly announced the worst: “CLOSE ALL HATCHES, PRESSURE FAILURE IN LAUNCH BAY.”
Clio flung herself up the ladder to the flight-deck hatch, screaming at Posie to shut the third hatch to the galley, the crew-station hatch. Clio grabbed at the flight-deck hatch, pulled the toggle to release it from the ceiling, and cranked it shut. She swung around to check the other hatches. Each one was shut, and guarded now by a crewmate, as though hell itself might barge through those doors. Though the alarms were still screeching, Clio could see Estevan’s mouth forming the words
holy shit, holy shit
.
Then, over the Klaxon’s blare, Estevan yelled at Meng, “Get your ass in gear, we’re ready to blow apart, you bitch!”
Meng, still seated at her cards, stared up at him. As the alarm subsided, Estevan screamed, “You gonna play cards on doomsday?”
In the ensuing quiet, Meng placed her cards facedown. “They must have fixed it,” she said.
Clio’s eyes were on the crew-deck hatchway, waiting for it to blow if the launch bay did.
Posie was on the intercom, but so were a few other people. Finally Russo’s voice piped in: “Posie to medical emergency in the launch bay. We are repressurized. Everyone else, clear the crew-quarter passageway and maintain your stations.”
Estevan spun open the hatch lock and made way for Posie, who rushed aft to the launch bay.
Hillis appeared in the same
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